Thanks for your honesty. I’d never considered my apparently also being on the autism spectrum as a reason I don’t speak as warmly of my relationship to Christ, as others, or wave banners during services, or raise my hands: yet at the same time, being certain and amazed He created this incredible place, and that He is curating my life. Not relating to him warmly and assuredly, often: just as I also have to force myself to maintain eye contact with other humans.
I have, however, found a comparison of His care for me, with care I provided 38 years ago for disabled and retarded children at the now-nonexistent South First Street, Austin, unmarked nursing home for severely challenged children, called “Cresthaven.” One child’s story will fit into this reply:
Pike Smith was a super-cute 3-4 year old, whom I found being held down on the ground by multiple aids and force-fed, at mealtimes, writhing and screaming all the while, when I came on board. At length, Pike was either added to my group of 4-6 charges, —or I volunteered to feed him, I don’t recall.
Having read that a goal in therapy for the autistic is to show them they have control of their worlds; one was to endeavor to get them to initiate SOMETHING, in their lives, — no matter how insignificant, and build upon that.
Since his favorite food, and the only one he willingly swallowed was milk, I would place that in a lab bottle with a long neck like athletes drink from / spray themselves with; but then I spent considerable time with him on my lap. I would place his hand over mine, and NOT just squeezing milk into his mouth, but making it quite clear he got a nice drink if he offered even the faintest squeeze on my hand in his. I would give him minimal bites of solid food without forcing it, between drinks.
He never reached the point in my 6 months of creating enoufh pressure to actually force milk from the bottle himself. Likely, too many years of force-feeding and his agency being taken away by aids who wanted to go eat their OWN lunches (I used up my lunch period with him and another child who was fed way too fast, letting her eat at her own speed and giving her time to chew the mashed food served there.) But, I never saw the screaming and force-feeding episodes after I began that “kindler, gentler” protocol!
I would not be surprised if The Lord doesn’t look at and deal with each of us, to varying degrees, and our lack of desire to pray, to communicate with Him, or even look him in the eye, in the same way: and I’m not so sure how far we progress, prior to meeting him above.
I have taken so many lessons from that 6 month long, foundational, “just arrived in Austin as a newly married new Christian” job, which my wife “just happened” to find for me in the days when the paper actually had help-wanted pages.
Lessons like noting that on 3rd shift, with only two on staff, for 70 sleeping children, SOMEHOW anyway an aid would “just happen” by a bedroom when a child was choking; to noting that we aids parked the couple kids likely to bite another child far from any tender, physically weak and defenseless ones.
I considered how each child had a written “IEP” (Independent Education Progrsm) of training and goals… and I broadened tbis in my mind to visualize the angels having pre-shift conferences just we aids did, regarding each of OUR “IEPs” which I’m sure the angels work from in OUR “able bodied” individualized earthly training… And, I began to see us, the aids, and also the AISD teachers imported on weekdays, as the powerful, capable angels, in the lives of these children. All mirroring what I thereafter assumed God has working, on each of OUR individual “cases:”—and visualize and my own angel caretakers likely having discussions with both management and the other “Angel” aids, over those I’ll meet in this life, —prior to each “shift.”
Also: I saw the same variety of PERSONALITIES among those Cresthaven children as I’d seen in my own “able bodied” world of high school and young adulthood… Only: because of severe cerebral palsy or other issues, they were weak and needy —and they needed us, the aids, as much as I’m SURE even the most capable of us “able” people likewise need God, despite our apparent successes / intelligence / gifts. —To an infinite Christ, we “normal” adults, just as the (sadly liberal) folk singer Mary Travers once sang, (remember Peter, Paul, and Mary?) 🎶🎶 “we’re only children, children one and all. 🎶🎶”
I can't imagine how difficult a job like that must've been. But I like how you tie that experience to the idea of angels working with us and having pre-shift conferences.
Yes the first day, kids crying, first week, stuck near the only child who could talk; then: got to like virtually every one of the children & even see taking most home! - but got more and more crossways with the administration of “normal” adult folks…. People DID tell us they didn’t see how we did the job etc but I think a week would likewise have normalized it to THEM too
Thanks for your honesty. I’d never considered my apparently also being on the autism spectrum as a reason I don’t speak as warmly of my relationship to Christ, as others, or wave banners during services, or raise my hands: yet at the same time, being certain and amazed He created this incredible place, and that He is curating my life. Not relating to him warmly and assuredly, often: just as I also have to force myself to maintain eye contact with other humans.
I have, however, found a comparison of His care for me, with care I provided 38 years ago for disabled and retarded children at the now-nonexistent South First Street, Austin, unmarked nursing home for severely challenged children, called “Cresthaven.” One child’s story will fit into this reply:
Pike Smith was a super-cute 3-4 year old, whom I found being held down on the ground by multiple aids and force-fed, at mealtimes, writhing and screaming all the while, when I came on board. At length, Pike was either added to my group of 4-6 charges, —or I volunteered to feed him, I don’t recall.
Having read that a goal in therapy for the autistic is to show them they have control of their worlds; one was to endeavor to get them to initiate SOMETHING, in their lives, — no matter how insignificant, and build upon that.
Since his favorite food, and the only one he willingly swallowed was milk, I would place that in a lab bottle with a long neck like athletes drink from / spray themselves with; but then I spent considerable time with him on my lap. I would place his hand over mine, and NOT just squeezing milk into his mouth, but making it quite clear he got a nice drink if he offered even the faintest squeeze on my hand in his. I would give him minimal bites of solid food without forcing it, between drinks.
He never reached the point in my 6 months of creating enoufh pressure to actually force milk from the bottle himself. Likely, too many years of force-feeding and his agency being taken away by aids who wanted to go eat their OWN lunches (I used up my lunch period with him and another child who was fed way too fast, letting her eat at her own speed and giving her time to chew the mashed food served there.) But, I never saw the screaming and force-feeding episodes after I began that “kindler, gentler” protocol!
I would not be surprised if The Lord doesn’t look at and deal with each of us, to varying degrees, and our lack of desire to pray, to communicate with Him, or even look him in the eye, in the same way: and I’m not so sure how far we progress, prior to meeting him above.
I have taken so many lessons from that 6 month long, foundational, “just arrived in Austin as a newly married new Christian” job, which my wife “just happened” to find for me in the days when the paper actually had help-wanted pages.
Lessons like noting that on 3rd shift, with only two on staff, for 70 sleeping children, SOMEHOW anyway an aid would “just happen” by a bedroom when a child was choking; to noting that we aids parked the couple kids likely to bite another child far from any tender, physically weak and defenseless ones.
I considered how each child had a written “IEP” (Independent Education Progrsm) of training and goals… and I broadened tbis in my mind to visualize the angels having pre-shift conferences just we aids did, regarding each of OUR “IEPs” which I’m sure the angels work from in OUR “able bodied” individualized earthly training… And, I began to see us, the aids, and also the AISD teachers imported on weekdays, as the powerful, capable angels, in the lives of these children. All mirroring what I thereafter assumed God has working, on each of OUR individual “cases:”—and visualize and my own angel caretakers likely having discussions with both management and the other “Angel” aids, over those I’ll meet in this life, —prior to each “shift.”
Also: I saw the same variety of PERSONALITIES among those Cresthaven children as I’d seen in my own “able bodied” world of high school and young adulthood… Only: because of severe cerebral palsy or other issues, they were weak and needy —and they needed us, the aids, as much as I’m SURE even the most capable of us “able” people likewise need God, despite our apparent successes / intelligence / gifts. —To an infinite Christ, we “normal” adults, just as the (sadly liberal) folk singer Mary Travers once sang, (remember Peter, Paul, and Mary?) 🎶🎶 “we’re only children, children one and all. 🎶🎶”
I can't imagine how difficult a job like that must've been. But I like how you tie that experience to the idea of angels working with us and having pre-shift conferences.
Yes the first day, kids crying, first week, stuck near the only child who could talk; then: got to like virtually every one of the children & even see taking most home! - but got more and more crossways with the administration of “normal” adult folks…. People DID tell us they didn’t see how we did the job etc but I think a week would likewise have normalized it to THEM too
I read this post a couple of days ago, then today I decided to listen to it…WOW… I felt like I was having a conversation with you…thank you!